JOHANNESBURG—Nelson Mandela oversaw the birth of the modern South Africa, but in his death he is handing a major challenge to the country he loved.

Never before has this country — likely never before has this planet — seen such a gathering of world leaders past and present who will gather at a giant soccer stadium Tuesday morning for a memorial to a man celebrated throughout the world.

There is royalty, those governing countries both powerful and once-mighty, foes and allies sitting as one at the stadium in which Mandela made his final public appearance, beaming and waving at the closing of this country’s highly successful 2010 World Cup.

More than 90 leaders and heads of state were still arriving Monday, but they will be dwarfed by more than 100,000 South Africans, invited to the giant tribute to a man who has passed from country icon to world icon, who will fill FNB Stadium on a first-come, first-serve basis, then spill into other satellite stadiums where big screens will be erected.

For all the VIPs being whisked to the memorial by motorcade, the government here has called average South Africans who will attend the “special guests.’’

Monday night many had already arrived at the stadium from neighbouring Soweto and townships further away, planning to spend the night, carting blankets, cushions, and facecloths, packing tooth brushes and bagged sandwiches.

Some brought tents. They sang and danced as evening turned into night.

This is, after all the last chance for them to say farewell to a man who changed their lives, to be a witness to a memorial which will make history.

A night spent in a drizzle is but a tiny sacrifice for a man whose life was defined by sacrifice.

Officials were expecting they will be joined by a predawn pilgrimage, by bus, train and on foot.

The mass influx into this city — anyone who has ever been anybody or even fancied themselves being anybody had to be here to say good-bye to Mandela — led to gridlocked traffic, backlogs at customs at the airport, overbooked flights, packed hotels and interminable lineups for anyone seeking their accreditation whether they were providing security or coverage for Tuesday morning’s (4 a.m. Toronto time) spectacle.

But all seemed to draw, with various degrees of success, on Mandela’s legendary patience and stoicism.

Here’s betting the legendary “Mandela Effect’’ rules the day.

Johannesburg is really not built to handle the type of security needed for this gathering, but there appears to be no one in its environs who will even bristle at inconvenience when it is a result of the affection for Tata.

The Mandela Effect will bring U.S. President Barack Obama and Cuban leader Raul Castro to the same stage to speak of Mandela.

While the VIPs filled city hotels, a steady rain which fell outside Mandela’s home in the Houghton district of Johannesburg just forced the crowd to sing louder and dance faster.

That scene has been chronicled many times since Mandela’s death last Thursday, but once beyond the souvenir hawkers and port-a-potties lining the road, there is an unmistakable sense of serenity in front of the ever-growing mountain of flowers, paintings, signs and balloons on the side of the road, all bordered with candles that refused to buckle in the evening storm.

It brings strangers together in a way even they cannot explain.

Rekha Ranchod said she and Dudu Maphanga had just met, but now they were taking turns snapping photos as they laid a bouquet of carnations at the vigil.

“We met up the street and made our own long walk to freedom,’’ said Ranchod.

Maphanga, who lives in Soweto, was dressed in a fine red suit for the occasion.

She was only 18 when Mandela emerged from 27 years of imprisonment at Robben Island.

She cast her first vote for Mandela as president.

“Because of him we enjoy employment equity, equal opportunity, we can go to places without restriction, we can embrace our friends as we choose, not because of their colour,’’ she said.

“I just hope this reminds everyone of what he stood for,’’ she said, “because we are at a critical time in our nation.

“His death came at a perfect time to remind us how we can better, because it comes at a time when one senses a bit of unrest in our country.’’

And everywhere, the young children, some seemingly seized of the moment as told by their parents, others trying to make sense of the scene unfolding in front of them.

Mandela, of course, was largely estranged from his children and his daughter Zindzi, a toddler when her father was imprisoned, has conceded a “sense of bitterness” following her father’s release when she was 29.

Instead of a normal family life, she and her siblings had to share him with the country.

“He’s never belonged to only us,’’ she said,

But Mandela would hold children’s Christmas parties at his home perhaps to seek to recover the years when his own children were stolen from him as he languished in prison.